1783-1883 

Fatten ni^ 











THE ROOM WITH SEVEN DOORS AND ONE WINCOV 



REASONS 



FOR 



The Centennial 



AT 



WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS, 



NRWBURGH. N Y. 



Prepared by J T. Headlev, 



At the request of the Trustee*. 




NEWBURGII, N . Y.: 
JOURNAL BOOK AND JOB PRINTING ESTABLISHMENT, 

U and tti Second street. 
1881. 



Fl'z 






Executive Committee on " Centennial Celebration," 
At Newburgh, N. Y. 



PETER WARD, 

Mayor of City of Newburgh, 
JOSEPH S. EMBLER, 
JOHN T. MOORE, 
B. B. MOORE, 
CHARLES A. HARCOURT, 

Committee of Common Council, 
JOEL T. HEADLEY, 

President of 2 V us tees of Washington's 
Headquarters, 
JAMES 1 W. TAYLOR, 
EDWARD C. BOYNTON, 
J. H. H. CHAPMAN, 

Trustees of Headquarters, 
HOMER RAMSDELL, 
DANIEL B. St. JOHN, 
ALFRED POST, 
JAMES G. GRAHAM, 
JOHN C. ADAMS, 
J. J. S. McCROSKERY, 

Committee of Citizens, 



Executive Com- 
mittee on part of 
the City of New- 
burgh. 



W. C. H. SHERMAN, 
AYMAR VAN BUREN, 
ROBERT R. ELLISON, 
JOHN R. CALDWELL, 
S. B. MUSGRAVE, 
AUGUSTUS HAVEMEYER, 
J. ABNER HARPER, 
E. L. FANCHER, 
J. W. MORRISON, 
ROBERT MORRISON, 
JAMES PATTON, 
JOSEPH B. BURNETT, 

george McCartney, 
franklin_mulliner, 
a. d. marvin, 



Executive Com- 
mittee of New 
Windsor. 



REASONS 

FOR 

THE CENTENNIAL 

AT 

WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS, 

NEWBUKGH, N. Y. 

♦ 

The long list of centennial celebrations that have commemo- 
rated the stirring events and noble men of out revolutionary 
struggle have been not only a proper and well merited recognition 
of them but have also been of vast benefit to the nation. Amid 
the mad strife for power and spoils which have been pushing the 
nation toward destruction they have made the people pause, take 
a new view of their situation from the standpoint of the revolu- 
tion, and stimulated a love of country that is far different from 
the love of political power. 

We propose to close the list extending through so many years 
by a grand centennial in Newburgh in 1883. As the first one 
celebrated a peaceful event, the declaration of independence in 
Independence Hall, Philadelphia, so this last will celebrate a 
peaceful event, the proclamation of peace to the army and its 
final disbandment. As the first celebrated the birthday of liberty 
in Philadelphia, so the last should celebrate the birthday of the 
Republic at Newburgh. As out of gloom and uncertainty as to 
the future one was born, so out of the deepest darkness and al- 
most despair the other sprang into being. The clangor of arms 
and thunder of hostile guns heralded neither. As the first was 
peaceful and yet more momentous than all the battles that fol- 
lowed, so the last was equally peaceful and yet greater than all 



6* 

the victories that preceded it. Both were moral victories accom 
parried by none of the display which dazzles the senses and at- 
tracts the gaze of the crowd. 

Washington's Headquarters in Newburgh, the spot designated 
for the closing centennial of the revolution, is a quaint old stone 
building standing on a green bluff overlooking the gorge of the 
Highlands. Hither Washington led his ragged army from the 
victorious field of Yorktown and made it his home for more than 
a year and a half. Burgoyne's army having been crushed at the 
north and that of Cornwallis at the south, there was left but one 
large army on our shores, that of Clinton shut up in New York. 
While Rochambeau stood watch and ward over the south, Wash- 
ington guarded the north at Newburgh. The Headquarters took 
in the Hudson River for eight miles to West Point, and the mo- 
ment Clinton should break through the obstructions across 'the 
channel there, he would know it and his army be put in motion. 

But as time passed on and it became pretty certain that the 
war was over, the attention of the army was naturally turned to 
the form of government to be adopted, and this question became 
the topic of general discussion, and assumed greater importance 
as Congress became more corrupt and more and more indifferent 
to the rights and comfort of the army. It was asked on every 
side, would it do for the army to disband and leave the destiny 
of the country in the hands of such a Congress. The terrible 
state of feeling that existed in the army may be imagined from 
the following extract from a letter of Washington's to the Secre- 
tary of War. He says : 

•' Under present circumstances, when I see such a number of 
men goaded by a thousand stings of reflection on the past, and of 
anticipation in the future, about to be turned on the world, soured 
by penury and by what they call the ingratitude of the public, in- 
volved in debts, without one farthing of money to carry them 
home, after spending the flower of their days and many of them 
their patrimony in establishing the freedom and independence of 
their country, and suffered everything that human nature is capa- 
ble of enduring this side of death. I repeat it, when I consider 
these irritating circumstances, without one thing to soothe their 
suflerings or dispel their gloomy prospects, I cannot avoid appre- 



bending a train of evils will follow of a very serious, disturbing 
nature, and I wish not to heighten the shades of the picture so far 
as the reality would justify in doing it. I could give anecdotes 
of patriotism and distress which have scarcely ever been paral 
leled, never been surpassed in the history of mankind. But you 
may rely upon it the patience and long suffering of the army are 
almost exhausted." 

How fearfully perilous the state of things must have been to 
have forced such strong language from the calm and prudent 
Washington. He knew meetings were almost nightly held by 
officers high in rank respecting the form of government that 
should be adopted when peace was secured. At this day it may 
seem strange that such a question should come up, but it must 
be remembered that when the colonies took up arms it was at 
fit st for a redress of grievances alone. In a short time it changed 
into one for independence — for a government of our own without 
any fixed idea as to what character that government should be 
when freedom was secured. It was time enough to think of that 
when we obtained our independence. That overshadowed all 
other questions. There is no evidence that such a republic as 
ours was ever dreamed of at the outset. As far as we can ascer- 
tain the general feeling of the statesmen at that time, the opinion 
was that a government based with some modifications upon that 
of England would be the safest and best. Nor is this strange — 
it was the one they had been educated in and been taught to re- 
vere, and the blessings and privileges of which they had rebelled 
to secure. But now as peace seemed close at hand, it was nec- 
essary to meet this question fairly and settle it forever. Congress 
was not to be trusted. To that conclusion almost the entire army 
had come. What then was to be done ? It was resolved with- 
out the calling of conventions or farther preliminaries to declare 
Washington dictator with the design of ultimately making him 
King. A paper to this effect was carefully drawn up and Colonel 
Nicola, a venerable officer, to whom Washington was warmly at- 
tached, was selected to present it. 

One morning Washington was sitting in the old building sur- 
veying with an anxious eye the perils that now threatened the 



8 , 
country, when Nicola rode up and requested an interview. He 
told Washington that he had been intrusted with an important 
paper by the officers of the army. That it had been prepared 
with great deliberation, and its contents had received the most 
careful and serious consideration. The paper, after speaking of 
the present condition of affairs and prospects of peace, and the 
necessity of the adoption of a strong government, took up the 
several forms of government, and discussed them, going over both 
the good and the bad points in each, and finally, in conclusion, de- 
clared that a republican government was the most unstable and 
insecure, and a constitutional one like that of England the most 
desirable and perfect of all, and offering to place him, as the one 
most fit, at its head under the title of" Protector," or some other 
name. As the people might object to the name of King, it 
should not immediately be assumed. Ultimately it was to be 
adopted. The anxiety and distress that deepened on Washing- 
ton's face as he went over the topics one after another, gradually 
assumed a more serious aspect, but when he came to the offer to 
make him King it blazed with terrible light, and he exclaimed : 

" Sir, with a mixture of surprise and astonishment I have read 
with attention the sentiments you have submitted to my perusal. 
Be assured, sir, no occurrence in the course of the war has given 
me more painful sensations than your information of there being 
such ideas existing in the army as you have expressed, and I must 
view with abhorrence and reprehend with severity. I am much at 
loss to conceive what part of my conduct could have given en- 
couragement to an address which to me seems big with the 
greatest mischief that can befall my country. If I am not de- 
ceived in the knowledge of myself you could not have found a 
person to whom your schemes are more disagreeable. Let me 
conjure you, then, if you have any regard for your country, for 
yourself or posterity, or respect for me, to banish these thoughts 
from your mind." 

How like a thunderbolt this proposition seems to fall upon 
him. He cannot contain his surprise as he looks about him in 
amazement at this new danger that has opened like an earth- 
quake under his feet. Every line of this letter bears indication 
of a powerful internal struggle — a struggle to maintain that self- 
composure and medoration in language which had always dis- 



9 

tinguished him. Mastering himself with a strong effort he re- 
plies with a severe dignity and stern condemnation that must 
have overwhelmed the astonished officers. His feelings of great 
surprise and astonishment give way to " abhorrence." He then 
takes fire at the insult offered himself, the severe reflection it 
casts upon his honor, and the implied charge of ambitious views 
and possible treason to the people, and he " cannot conceive what 
part of his conduct could have given encouragement to such an ad- 
dress." The next moment his thoughts revert to his country, 
and " the greatest mischiefs that can befall my country " comes 
back like a mournful refrain. 

Surely no event in the history of our country deserves to be 
remembered and honored more than this. No battle he ever 
fought was more fraught with the nation's destinies than this act. 
No transaction that occurred during that long seven years' strug- 
gle is more deserving of commemoration, not only for its gran- 
deur, but as an example to be held up for all time before the 
youth of this country. But this was not all. Another and a 
sterner conflict and final victory was before him. He had crush- 
ed this first movement with a single blow, but he clearly saw that 
the feeling which had prompted it was not extinguished ; nay, his 
watchful eye saw that it was on the increase, and the next step 
would be taken without him, if possible over him. 

He saw an abyss whose depths he could not fathom, opening 
at his feet. Never before in the hour of deepest discourage- 
ment when retreating from a lost field was he so agitated. He 
aroused himself, however, to avert the evil. His letters to Con- 
gress proving of no avail, and the mutterings of the army grow- 
ing daily more ominous, he proposed that a committee of officers 
of high character should be appointed and sent to Congress to see 
if some measures might not be adopted to remove the deep-seat- 
ed disaffection and disperse the lising storm. That committee 
went. It pleaded, it remonstrated, it endeavored to alarm that 
body, by pointing out the dangerous state of feeling in the army 
which, if pushed to extremity, would take the matter into its own 



10 

hands. But it was all to no purpose, and when that committee re- 
turned and reported the utter failure of their mission, the indig- 
nation increased tenfold, and Washington became still more 
alarmed. At length the long expected storm burst. One day an 
officer handed Washington a paper that had been circulated freely 
in the army. It was an appeal to it to take matters in its own 
hands, march on Congress, and obtain its demands at the point 
of the bayonet. In short, if they were not granted, usurp the 
government. It appointed a day for the officers to meet in the 
Temple, as it was called (a large log building erected a couple of 
miles back of Washington's Headquarters for the use of the army 
during its long period of idleness), and there decide on the man 
ner in which to proceed. 

Washington's face wore an anxious, troubled look as he read 
it and he sat and pondered long and with a heavy heart over its 
contents. The terrible exasperating facts it contained were all 
true and could not be denied. The letter was not signed, but 
was evidently written by a master hand and was perfectly adapt- 
ed to secure the end aimed at, which was to arouse the passions 
of the officers and soldiers to such a pitch that would prove too 
strong for even the powerful influence of Washington to check. 
It began with a recital of their wrongs, of the insults heaped on 
them by Congress, of its cold neglect, of their own forbear- 
ance and patience under them, their self-sacrifice and patriotism, 
and recited the measures they had taken in vain to secure their 
rights, portrayed in vivid colors the contempt and scorn with 
which their repeated and earnest petitions had been treated, and 
finally breaks out, " faith hath its limits as well as its temper, and 
there are points beyond which neither can be stretched without 
sinking into cowardice or plunging into credulity," and declared 
that another step in the patient course they had been pursuing 
would be ruin forever. " If this," he says, " be your treatment 
while the swords you wear are necessary to the protection of 
your country, what have you to expect from peace when your voice 
shall sink and your strength dissipate by division, when those very 



11 

swords, the instruments and companions of your glory, shall be 
taken from your sides and no remaining mark of your military 
distinction left you but your infirmities and scars. Can you con- 
sent to retire from the field and grow old in poverty, wretched- 
ness and contempt ? Can you consent to wade through the vile 
mire of dependency and owe the remnant of that life to charity 
which has hitherto been spent in honor ? If you can, go and 
carry with you the jest of tories, the scorn of whigs, and what is 
worse, the pity of the world. Go, starve and be forgotten." 
Growing bold in his indignation he swoops down on Washington 
himself and exclaims, " suspect the man who would advise to 
more moderation and longer forbearance, let nothing but death 
separate you from your arms." 

These impassioned words fell on the already excited and in- 
dignant hearts of the army like fire on gunpowder. Washington 
gazed with the deepest alarm and gloom at the awful catastrophe 
that seemed about to overwhelm the country. These brave men 
whom he had borne on his great heart for seven long years were 
asked to throw him overboard at last. Must it be then that the 
bloody and stormy road they had traveled together so long was 
to end in this frightful gulf in which home and country were to go 
down in one black ruin ? As he looked down into its gloomy 
depths his heart sunk and he afterward said it was the darkest 
day of his life. Not when in the gloomy winter encampment of 
Valley Forge with his half naked, starving army dying around 
him, did the prospect look so dark as now. No lost battle-field 
ever bore so terrible an aspect. But what was to be done ? He 
could forbid the meeting, but that would only increase the excite- 
ment. The army was in no temper to submit to mere dictation. 
Besides, he must win back more than obedience — he must regain 
the confidence and love of the army or all would be lost. With 
that remarkable sagacity and foresight that has made him the 
wonder of mankind he simply in an order postponed the meeting 
till Saturday and selected the number and rank of the officers to 
compose it. He acted as though he sympathized with the army, 



12 

and if there was to be a meeting to discuss measures for its wel- 
fare, it was eminently proper that he should attend it. This mas- 
ter stroke discomfited the leaders in their movement. They ex- 
pected to control the meeting themselves. 

In the meantime, Washington summoned to this old building 
those on whom he knew he could rely, and Putnam and Green, 
and Knox and Wayne and Steuben and others gathered here in 
grave and solemn council. The plan for Washington to attend 
the meeting was approved, and the room in which he penned his 
immortal address to the army remains just as it was when he 
wrote it. 

So on the appointed day Washington mounted his horse and 
accompanied by his staff, rode over to the Temple. On the way 
his face wore an anxious, troubled look. He knew that the crisis 
of the revolution had come, and his heart was torn by conflicting 
emotions. Would he be able to crush this perilous movement 
and allay the rising storm, or would he be overridden and trodden 
under foot by the excited passions of the army ? With these 
thoughts oppressing his heart he approached the building. The 
crowd of caparisoned horses in the open space around it and held 
by orderlies or hitched to the trees, showed that the officers were 
already assembled. On the slope across a morass in front lay 
scattered the shanties of the soldiers. His eye rested for a mo- 
ment on them, and he then dismounted and giving his horse to an 
orderly entered the building. Every eye turned as that majestic 
form, with its firm and measured tread, moved toward the raised 
platform at the farther end of the room. Every footfall echoed 
clear and distinct on the uncarpeted floor as he slowly passed 
through the silent throng of officers. Ascending it he turned and 
gazed a moment on the excited upturned faces, and after saying 
a few words »abnut the writer of this anonymous appeal, he took 
out the address he had prepared with so much care. But in the 
absorption of his feelings in the decisive step he was about to 
take, he had forgotten his spectacles. Taking them from his 
pocket he said in a grave, subdued tone : " These eyes, my 



13 

friends, have grown dim and these locks white in the service, yet 
I never doubted the justice of my country." They were simple 
words, but the suppressed emotion with which they were uttered, 
and the painful sadness of his face, smote every heart and sent a 
thrill of the deepest sympathy through the room, and many an 
eye grew moist and lip quivered. 

He began that immortal address by referring to the anonymous 
writer of the call for this meeting and of the perilous advice it con- 
tained, not to sheathe their swords till they obtain satisfaction 
from the government. Dwelling on the proposition to turn their 
arms on Congress itself, he burst forth " My God, what can this 
writer have in view in recommending such measures ! Can he 
be a friend to the army ? Can he be a friend to the country ? 
No, he is plotting the ruin of both." He then spoke of the army, 
and his voice trembled with emotion as he dwelt on their suffer- 
ings, devotion and bravery, and of his deep affection for them. 
He told them how intimately his own fame was bound up in their 
glory till eyes that had never blanched in the wildest storm of 
battle overflowed with tears. He closed the touching, noble ad- 
dress in the following language : 

"Let me conjure you in the name of our common country, as 
you value your own sacred honor, as you respect the rights of 
humanity and the national character of America to express the 
utmost horror and detestation o^ the man who wishes under any 
specious pretence to overturn the liberties of our country, who 
wickedly attempts to open the floodgates of civil discord and 
drench our rising Empire in blood. By thus determining and 
thus acting you will pursue the plain and direct road to the at- 
tainment of your wishes — you will defeat the insidious designs of 
our enemies who are compelled to resort from open force to 
secret artifice, and you will give one more distinguished proof of 
unexampled patriotism and patient virtue, rising superior to the 
most complicated sufferings, and you will by the dignity of your 
conduct afford occasion for posterity to say when speaking of the 
glorious example you have exhibited to mankind : Had this day 
been wanting the world had never seen the last stage <bf perfec- 
tion to which human virtue is capable of attaining." 

With a low bow he descended the platform and walked out of 
the building. The moment he disappeared through the entrance 
Knox sprang to his feet and offered a resolution of thanks to and 



14 

of confidence in Washington, which was seconded by Putnam, at 
the same time declaring that they returned his affection with all 
the strength of which the human heart is capable. It was carried 
with a shout of acclamation. Not a voice was raised in remon- 
strance. The meeting to take into consideration the momentous 
question should the army usurp the government, had ended in a 
resolution of confidence in Washington. The crisis had passed, 
the danger was over and Washington remained more strongly en- 
trenched in the hearts of his soldiers than ever. It was no figure 
of speech when Washington said the success of the measures pro- 
posed by the anonymous appeal would " drench this rising Em- 
pire in blood." Civil war would have inevitably followed, the 
colonies been rent asunder and England easily have recovered 
her lost possessions and American liberty gone down at least for 
that century. 

Washington rode back to these old Headquarters with a 
heavier load lifted from his heart than he had ever felt be- 
fore, and with serene satisfaction received the congratulations of 
his major generals. There had never been so perilous a battle 
fought during the long struggle as this one fought by Washing- 
ton single-handed and alone and without the clash of arms, and 
no greater victory won, and we believe therefore there is no event 
or period in our revolutionary history more worthy of commemo- 
ration than this. 

But this is not all that makes a great centennial here appropri- 
ate and worthy to be held. Here peace was announced to the 
army and a day of jubilee appointed by Washington which ought 
to be kept in remembrance by the nation forever. Thirteen can- 
non from old Fort Putnam, at West Point, belched forth their joy, 
and cannon from these old Headquarters answered. A feu de joie 
was fired by the army drawn up in line, and people streamed along 
the highway and fields with shouts and firing of guns. At night, 
fires blazed on the distant mountain-tops and their sides echoed 
with the sound of fire-arms flashing in the darkness, while shouts 
rent the air. There was a grand gathering of troops and men, 



15 

prayer and thanksgiving were offered and hymns of rejoicing 
sung, and the loud chorus rose strong and great against the sky. 

And all the continent shall sing, 

Down with this earthly king! 
No king but God ! 

Let this day be remembered. There is another reason why 
this year should be the last great centennial. Here the old con- 
tinental army was disbanded. Drawn up in line the proclama- 
tion of Congress and the farewell order of Washington was 
read and they broke ranks for the last time, the band playing the 
mournful tune of " Roslin Castle," to the strains of which they had 
been accustomed to carry their dead comrades to the grave, and 
scenes of sorrow followed that should make these grounds sacred 
to every patriotic heart. 

Thatcher, a surgeon in the army who was present at the final 

% 
disbandment, says : 

" Painful was the parting ; no description can be adequate 
to the tragic exhibition. Both officers and soldiers long un- 
accustomed to the affairs of private life were turned loose upon 
the world. Never can the day be forgotten when friends and 
companions for seven years in joy and sorrow were torn asunder 
without the hope of ever meeting again, and wiih the prospect of 
a miserable subsistence in the future." 

Major North, another witness of the principal scene, says: 

" The inmates of the same tent for seven long years grasped 
each other's hands in silent agony. To go they knew not 
whither ; all recollection of the art to thrive by civil service lost, 
or to the youthful never known. Their hard-earned military 
knowledge worse than useless, and to be cast out into the world 
by them long since forgotten. To go in silence and alone, and 
poor and helpless. It was too hard. Oh, on that sad ciay how 
many hearts were wrung. I saw it all, nor will the scene be ever 
blotted from my view." 

No, and may it never be blotted from that of the country. 
Let it all be brought back again, and these grounds in the cen- 
tennial year be once more peopled in imagination with these 
brave and suffering men — without pay, without decent clothing, 
laying down their arms, relying solely for justice on the sacred 
promise of Washington. This spot, consecrated by such great 
events, made holy by the lofty patriotism here exhibited and 



16 

speaking to our sympathies by the tears and suffering they have 
witnessed, should not only be held in affectionate remembrance, 
but a monument should crown it, towering over the Hudson 
from the gorge of the Highlands, and on it be inscribed the 
events of the memorable year of 1783. 

These Headquarters are now owned by the State, and stand 
just as they did when Washington occupied them, empty save of 
revolutionary relics, and surrounded by cannon gathered from 
almost every battle-field of the republic. 



The Great Celebration Ordered by Washington 
at Newburgh in 1783. 



Congress proclaimed the cessation of hostilities, agreed upon 
between Great Britain and this government, early in April ; but 
Washington hesitated to make it known to the army lest those 
soldiers who had enlisted for the war should consider the war 
ended and demand their release. Hence, if peace was not rati- 
fied the nation would be without an army. But he found it was 
impossible to keep the fact from it, and so issued the following 
proclamation : 

"Headquarters, Newburgh, April 18, 1783. 

" The Commander-in-chief orders the cessation of ihostilitiet 
between the United States of America and the King of Grei 
Britain to be publicly proclaimed to morrow at 12 o'clock at the 
new building, and that the proclamation which will be communi- 
cated herewith will be read to-morrow evening at the head of 
every regiment and corps of the army. After which the chap- 
lain will render thanks to Almighty God for all his mercies, par- 
ticularly for his overruling the wrath of man to his own glory and 
causing the rage of war to cease amongst this nation." 

Although he says this does not mean necessarily the annun- 
ciation of peace, " yet it must afford the most rational and sincere 
satisfaction to every benevolent mind as it puts a period to a long 
and doubtful contest, stops the effusion of blood, opens the pros- 
pect to a more splendid scene, and like another morning^staV 
promises the approach of a brighter day than hath hitherto illu- 
minated the Western hemisphere. On such a happy day — a day 
which is the harbinger of peace, a day which completes the eighth 
year of the war*, it would be ingratitude not to rejoice, it would 
be insensibility not to participate in the general felicity. The 
Commander-in-chief, far from endeavoring to stifle feelings of joy 
in his own bosom, offers his own most cordial congratulations on 
the occasion to all the officers of every denomination, to all the 
troops of the United States in general and in particular to those 
gallant, persevering men who had resolved to defend the rio-hts 
of their invaded country so long as the war should continue. 
For these are the men who ought to be considered as the pride 
and boast of the American army, and who, crowned with well 



18 

earned laurels, may soon withdraw from the field of glory to the 
more tranquil walks of civil life. While the general recollects 
the almost infinite variety of scenes through which we have 
passed, with a mixture of pleasure and astonishment and grati- 
tude ; while he contemplates the prospect before us with rapture, 
he cannot help wishing that all the brave men of whatever con- 
dition they may be, who have shared in the toils and dangers of 
this glorious revolution of rescuing millions from the hand of op- 
pression and of laying the foundation of a great empire, might 
be impressed with a proper idea of the dignified part they have 
been called to act, under the smiles of Providence, on the stage 
ot human affairs; for happy, thrice 'happy shall they be pro- 
nounced hereafter who have contributed anything, who have per- 
formed the meanest office in creating this stupendous fabric of 
freedom and empire on the broad basis of independency, who 
have assisted in protecting the rights of human nature and estab- 
lishing an asylum for the poor and oppressed of all nations and 
religions." He then speaks of the necessity of maintaining order 
and discipline until a treaty of peace is finally signed, and close 
the drama with applause and retire from the military theatre with 
the same approbation of angels and men which has crowned all 
their virtuous actions. 

The next day at the appointed hour the ill clad army stood in 
battle array, and the proclamation was read. Three thundering 
huzzas greeted its close, and then the chaplain offered up an 
earnest prayer and gave thanksgiving to the God of battles for 
the glorious success that has crowned their efforts. At the close 
the band struck up a familiar tune and there swelled out over the 
forest and rolled up to the listening heavens the anthem styled 
" Independence." 

" The States, O Lord, with songs of praise, 
Shall in thy strength rejoice, 
A d blest with Thy salvation, raise 
To heaven their cheerful voice." 

And from ten thousand throats there rose strong and great 
against the sky, 

" And all the continent shall sing- 
Down with this earthly king; 
No king bu*, God." 

This first day was marked by religious services. Washington 



19 

then issued orders for a grand celebration and day of jubilee. 
Among others was the following order only recently discovered : 
Headquarters, Newburgh, April 19, 1783. 

To erect a frame -work for an illumination the several corps of 
the cantonment are to square and deliver at the new building on 
Monday next the following pieces of timber, viz. : 

Maryland detachment, 2 pieces 30 ft. long 7 in. square. 

Jersey Regiment, 5 pieces 30 ft. long 7 in. square. 

Jersey Battalion, 2 " 

First New York Regiment, 2 pieces 30 ft. long 7 in. square. 

Second New York Regiment, 3 pieces 30 ft. long 7 in. square. 

Hampshire Regiment, 8 pieces 18 ft. long 7 in. square. 
" Battalion, 1 " 

First Massachusetts Regiment, 9 pieces 18 ft. long 7 in. 
square. 

Fourth Massachusetts Regiment, 8 pieces 18 ft. long 7 in. 
square. 

Seventh Massachusetts Regiment, 4 pieces 18 ft. long 7 in. 
square. 

Seventh Massachusetts Regiment, 4 pieces 19 ft. long 7 in. 
square. 

Second " 8 pieces 19 ft. long 7 in. 

square. 

Fifth Massachusetts Regiment, 4 pieces 19 ft. long 7 in. square. 
" 8 " 8 

Eighth Massachusetts Regiment, 16 pieces 8 ft. long 7 in. 
square. 

Third " 2 pieces 14 ft. long 3 in. 

square. 

Third " 3 " 15 ft. long 3 in. 

square. 

Third " 6 " n ft. long 3 in. 

square. 

Here are nearly one hundred pieces of timber from 30 feet to 
10 feet long and 7 inches square, not including braces, to be 
used in making a huge skeleton for fireworks and lanterns alone, 
and to constitute only one feature in grand celebration. 

The next day the woods were alive with the soldiers and soon 
the crash of falling trees was heard on every side. Many were 
barefoot, many in rags, and many a brawny arm that swung the 
axe was bare to the shoulder, yet the woods rung with laughter 
and shouts, and ever and anon there swelled on the ear : 

" Down with this earthly king; 
No king but God - " 

Thousands were at work till the forest was like a hive of bees, 

some felling trees, others roughly squaring the timbers, and 



-^6c 



i-/ 

20 

others bearing them to their places of destination. These were 
rapidly hoisted to their appropriate places, and soon the huge 
skeleton stood outlined against the sky. 

The great day a last came and was ushered in by the roaring 
of cannon and fusilades of musketry, mingled with deafening 
shouts, and citizens and soldiers vied with each other in enthu 
siasm and extravagant demonstrations of joy. 

In accordance with Washington's orders, at noon the army 
was drawn up in line of battle and thirteen cannon from Fort 
Putnam, the number of the States, were fired, and as the heavy 
echoes came rolling up through the Highland thirteen cannon 
from these old headquarters answered, and then a feu de joie 
rolled along the lines, followed by loud huzzas that rent the air. 
The whole day was given up to the wildest excitement, and when 
night came down it broke forth with renewed fervor. Piles of 
combustible material that had been collected on the tops of the 
Beacon and Storm King to herald the approach of the enemy 
and signal the inevitable conflict that should follow, were now 
kindled to signal the approach of peace, and blazed up like great 
altar fires to God, lighting up the dark bosom of the river below, 
while all along the shores cannon thundered and musketry blazed, 
and excited thousands shouted, till the river seemed to flow in 
fire and the old mountains shook on their bases. Said a specta- 
tor of this wonderful demonstration, " The mountain sides re- 
sounded and echoed like tremendous peals of thunder, and the 
flashing from thousands of firearms in the darkness of the evening 
was like unto vivid flashes of lightning from the clouds." The 
Log Temple was ablaze with light and its rude timbers covered 
with flags and filled with merry dancers, while the immense 
frame-work blazed up in the darkness and stood and glowed like 
a fairy vision, shedding a strange glory on the surrounding forest 
and the rude huts of the encampment scattered among the trees. 

It is this celebration and jubilee that we wish to be repeated 
here when its centennial year comes round in 1883. It was got 
up in the clays of our poverty, when the army, was unpaid and 
continental money almost worthless. Poor as the nation then 
was, it thought the money well spent in celebrating on such a 
grand scale the peace that secured for their descendants freedom 
and future prosperity and gladness. And now can there be one 
of these descendants who in this day of our unbounded wea.th 
would object on the score of economy to honor it with equal dem- 
onstrations ? On this centennial let us send back these shouts of 
joy of our brave forefathers, and our cannon repeat the echoes that 
shook these old mountains a hundred years ago, till the spirits of 
that brave, suffering and patient army are waked from their long 
and peaceful slumbers to join with us in celebrating that peace, 
bought with their blood, and which to-day crowns us with untold 
blessings. 

* Eighth from the battle of Lexington and Concord. 



